THE LAST 10 DAYS HAVE BEEN A LITTLE ROUGH.  My dad’s hospitalization being the roughest part, and things being a little too quite at the shop.  Heading towards Thanksgiving Week I was having a bit of a pitty party… wo is T.

Today it all turned around.

It started with a video from my sister of my dad playing catch with my brother!  Granted, he’s in a wheelchair, and only a few feet apart… but there he was, being dad.

At the shop – and I don’t know why I feel like calling the office the shop today… I guess because we are always making stuff – the email started ringing.  It was kinda like my world stopped mourning and was ready to get back to work… and that made two of us.

Then we got notice that we’d secured a primo spot at Sea Otter, next to our Red Monkey friends.

I hit the road at this point… stopped by our bag factory and made a few final adjustments for the prototypes that I’m really happy with.

My friend/customer Espen, who’s turned into a great source of referrals, met up with me to try on some new gear… he showed me an app he’s working on that gamifies fitness in a new and exciting way that I think will be so helpful to increasing heathy lifestyles across the US, and beyond.

The final stop was with Chad and Geno at Baghouse.  There’s never a dull moment with these guys… and I always love to feel their unfiltered energy.  I love it.

On the way home, the phone rang.  My oldest, Trevor, was on his way to our place with his bike.

For a ride.

With me.

I’m really grateful for days like these because they give me confidence and remind me how blessed I have been and continue to be.

EVERY NOW AND THEN I COME UP WITH SOME KOOKY BODY HACK TO LOSE WEIGHT.  Sometimes it’s something I’ve read or heard about, sometimes it’s just the mad scientist in me.  The inspirations generally come in the Fall, when the riding is down and the waistline is widening.  It’s this time of year when the weirdness pops up and strikes.

Previous hacks include:

The Excedrin PM Diet – eat normally* and take a few PMs around 9 to knock yourself out and not be getting up to eat in the middle of the night.

The Drink A Lot of Water Diet – drink enough water and you end up eating less because sometimes you think you’re hungry when your actually thirsty.

The Yogurtland Diet – eat normally during day, have a tiny dinner with a trip to Yogurtland as a reward.

The Sardines and Beans Diet – start the day off with a can of sardines and 1/2 a can of black beans… the key is to go big protein to get the day started.

The King-Queen-Prince Diet – this is a giant breakfast, decent lunch and puny dinner before 7… this is probably the healthiest and the one I fail at most easily.

The Salad For Dinner Diet – eat normally and have a giant salad for dinner… I like this one the most, but I’m lazy and don’t always want to make a giant vegetable salad.

New for 2017… The Haagen Dazs Diet – giant bowl of oatmeal with nuts and fruit for breakfast, mid-day snack, El Pollo Loco Leg Lovers around 3pm, and a pint of Haagen Dazs just before bed.

*eat normally means eating non-processed food as much as possible.

Don’t laugh, they all work.

They may not be healthy,

But they sure are fun.

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Save the dates:  HUNKR 3/17, 6/9, 11/10 – TMWC 7/10

169.8

YA GOTTA BE A REAL SICKO TO RIDE AT NIGHT, RIGHT?  I’m not talking about commuting home after a long day working for the man, but rushing home from work – or even stopping on the way home – to throw on the kit and head out into the dark.  On your bike.  With lights.

Who else would do that but a deranged person?  You’ve got to be von-whack.

Until you give it try, then you know what crazy really is.

Crazy is skipping a ride because your tired.

Crazy is what you get if you don’t ride that work stress away.

And so, The Bee Gees NIGHT FEVER played in my head tonight… not that I could remember any of the lyrics besides the most important ones:

Here I am,
prayin’ for this moment to last,
livin’ on the riding so fine,
borne on the wind,
makin’ it mine.

Click To Watch

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Save the dates:  HUNKR 3/17, 6/9, 11/10 – TMWC 7/10

171

I HAVE TOES, AND I HAVE A NOSE.  You probably do, too.  Are yours like mine?

If my toes are cold, my nose is cold.

If my nose is cold, it runs.

It’s my body part’s way of saying… Get warm ya big goof, we’re freezing!  And, if you’re not careful we’re all gonna be sidelined with a cold.

Southern California cold, like down in the 40’s, is when my toes start to hurt and ache and burn and complain and whine…  That’s when I bust out the toe warmers.  (This, of course, will be an outrage to my Northern friends… and hopefully a subtle invite to get your toes down here.)

Toe warmers might be a misnomer, because they are really shoe covers that protect the leading edge the hammers at the end of my legs (aka my shoes).  They don’t actually warm each toe individually with a tiny electric blanket.  But, because I have these awesome racing shoes with incredible ventilation…

I don said warmers,

to do said warming,

which is just what said toes,

said they needed this morning.

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Save the dates:  HUNKR 3/17, 6/9, 11/10 – TMWC 7/10

172

IT’S JUST HARD WORK, that’s all Bro.

A super-bike will help, but not without hard work.

Good genes are important, but not without hard work.

A coach can assess and advise, but it’s worthless without hard work.

A book can teach you what to do, but it’s a paperweight without hard work.

Getting out and riding is fun, but winning – however you define that – is more fun…

… because you finally see the inevitable result of all that hard work…

a hard climb made easy

a spot at the front

a podium

a KOM

a PR

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Save the dates:  HUNKR 3/17, 6/9, 11/10 – TMWC 7/10

171.6

I LOVE TAKING SUNDAYS OFF FROM RIDING MY BIKE.  Because I definitely have an addictive relationship with my bike, knowing I’m not riding on Sunday has been restful in and of itself.  I don’t ever wonder if I’m riding on the 7th day.

On Monday, I’m rested and ready to start another great with week some weight lifting and an easy spin.

On Tuesday, it’s the Tuesday Morning World Championships.

On Wednesday, more weights and MTB riding.

On Thursday, I surf.

On Friday, an easy spin is the order.

On Saturday, a big ride or a race of some sort.

On Sunday, I rest.

HOW YA BEEN?  SAME OLD, SAME OLD.  On my ride today, I asked that, and got that, multiple times: with young Nico, French Steve, fast Chris and a few others.  It’s cross-generational and cross-continental… but, what does it mean?

Is it… I have so much going on I don’t even know where to start… and we are going way too fast to even start.?

Or… the truth?  You can’t handle the truth!?

I hope it’s… same old amazing life as our last chat.

Because today was amazing in our parts.  Warm, clear, sunny.  And… y’all seemed real happy, too.  From catching up  with Mike and Chris on PCH to the Food Park “social ride” to the happening scene at Kaylani’s.

Lots of smiles, everywhere.

Smiles I needed, and hoped to find.

Same old smiles as last time,

:-)

I LIKE RIDING MY BIKE ACROSS BRIDGES, getting from one side to the other.  Little wood bridges, ladder bridges, walking bridges, bridges with cars, I like them all.

On the bridge, the sound of the bike changes.

The bigger the bridge, the better view of where you’ve been and where you’re going.

And then you’re there.

On the other side.

WITH NUMBERS LIKE THESE AN EARTHLING SHOULD BE FLYING ON A BICYCLE:  6′ 2″, 130 lbs, and his Hematocrit (Hct) level is 58.6.

But, he’s not.

He’s not 25.

He’s 82, and he’s laying in a hospital bed, worn out from a 7 year battle with Parkinson’s Disease.  Because his muscles are constantly moving he can’t keep weight on.  He’s so weak, he can’t swallow on his own.  My heart ached as he struggled and cried when the feeding tube was put in place.  He’s not a lean, mean machine… he’s skin and bones.

His Hct is super high because his bones are over producing red blood cells.  Rather than bounding up hills endlessly, he’s slowly coming to the end.

He’s actually not 6′ 2″ anymore, and I’m not thrilled to be taller than him now.

He’s my dad.

He’ll never ride a bike again,

he may never walk again…

on planet Earth.

SHANE AND I HAVE BEEN HAVING EPIC BATTLES ON THE CHESS BOARD.  It’s tense.  Dead silent.  Massive amounts of sugar burning between our ears.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned lately, it’s to focus less on my next move and more on his.

Of all the the bicycle racing I’ve done – road, cross county MTB and Super-D – road is definitely the most like chess.  It’s much more strategic, and rarely does the fastest guy win.

You’ve got to be lucky.

But more than lucky,

you’ve got to be wily.

And all wily’s synonyms:  artful, sly, designing, intriguing, tricky, foxy, deceitful, treacherous.

You’ve got to fake tired when fresh, fake strong when weak.  You’ve to pull your unfair share.  My friend Fritz would never race with a clear bottle because he didn’t want anybody to know how much fluid he had left.  There are a million little tricks a wily rider will use to beat you.

The most wily of riders have an uncanny ability to be in just the right spot when it counts.  You maybe be a better climber, but they’ll somehow breakaway before the climb and beat you.  You may be the best sprinter, but somehow they’ll be on your wheel and come around you right on the line.  You may be the best _____, but somehow you’re going to get out maneuvered.

I had Shane backed into a corner tonight.  I could see the one move I needed to make with my queen to finally beat him.  I moved in for the kill…  but somehow he knew what I was going to do and killed my queen with his horse.  Game over.

Tonight I missed his horse,

In a few weeks, I’ll be missing him and Abbey when they move out.

What are you missing?

TODAY WAS THE FIRST TMWC SINCE THE TIME CHANGE.  It was  lot lighter, which meant more cars on the road early… but that quiet pre-time change dark is not what I’m missing.  I’m missing the dark side of me.

Last night I went to bed ticked off.

No reason, really.

Tossed and turned all night, and was comatose when the alarm banged and banged and banged.

I stumbled through the rituals.

Weighed myself, was happy to be 2 pounds lighter than yesterday and mad that yesterday was the heaviest I’ve been in 3 years.  177!

Got rolling right on time.

Threw it in the big ring to get up to speed and the chain went right over and off the ring.  It jammed so bad I had to stop.

Normally, this is not a big deal.

But, since I’d had the shop work on my bottom bracket last night only to screw up the shifting in the process… well, dang it fellas… can ya just stick with fixing what’s broken and leave out the breaking what’s working?  I was doubly mad, because I asked if they’d need to adjust the derailleur… my spider sense was telling me to test it, but I trusted them.  Shame on T.

Then, I round the corner and see the guys at the meet up to ride to TMWC.  Right on time they leave, 5:54AM.  Which is cool, because I’m only about a minute behind and should be able to catch them before the super sketchy 1 lane road… sketchy because the cars are a little nuts in the morning and there’s K-rail on each side with no bike lane.  It’s a lot safer in a group.

I carefully throw it in the big ring and I can hear the crank clicking on the derailleur each pedal stroke… which reminds me how ticked I am at poor service, AGAIN.  Which means I get to do the entire ride in the small ring.  Yeah’nt.

Back to the small ring.

I’m going really fast, way faster than I want to go this early into the ride.  My “friends” are getting further ahead.  Thanks guys.

It was nice to have a car right on my back wheel all the way down the super sketchy one lane section (what if I’d flatted?… I’d be flattened).  And even nicer to see the light at Antonio turn green just in time for my friends to make it and me to miss it.  The nicest part of all is that this is a 5 minute light, an extra-crazy-busy intersection with everybody up so early.  Which meant I got to go the rest of the way  by myself and remember how ticked I was at the world… isn’t that nice?

I got to the ride in time, easily.

Everybody was happy it was light already.

But, I was dark.

And, I remained that way most of the ride.  I’d brighten up, then be spinning so fast in my small ring (put on that darn 34T for LoToJa) things would get dim.

Good thing though, if I ride long enough eventually the dark will pedal away.  Sure I was still ticked at whatever it was last night, at the ballast I’ve added, at the shop, at myself for not listening to Spider sense, at “friends” for going all out at the start just to prove a point about leaving on time…

… but this darkness has woken me out of my post-LoToJa slump…

… no more skipping rides, no more backing off when it hurts, no more eating crap, no more blaming others for my bikes’ performance…

… where there is darkness, there is fire…

… and where there’s fire, there’s smoke…

…  and someone’s getting smoked…

Which reminds me how great it was to be forced to spin really fast, how useful that kind of training can be and how it keeps your legs from loading up, keeping them fresh for the final efforts…

… like the KOM I snagged on the way home by giving in to my dark side…

I TELL MYSELF TO PULL MY HEAD OUTTA MY GLASS ALL THE TIME.  So much of my day is spent looking at glass:  the computer monitor, the “smart” phone, the TV screen, the tablet.  Some of it is for work, too much of it is utter nonsense.

And, I’m not alone.

Addiction is weird, when I’m on my glass trip I don’t notice the rest of the addicts as much.  How could I?  I’m tripping the glass fantastic.

Bike riding is such a great antidote to the glass addiction.

There’s no way to ride fast and do glass.  Well, there is, but it doesn’t take much for it all to go horribly wrong.  That’s why you don’t see bike riders staring at glass.  The only glass on my bike is the tiny bike computer, but I don’t pay much attention to it these days.

Riding my bike today was like a scary movie, the one where the protagonist goes into the dark and dingy hall of a drug house.  You know, where people are sticking needles in their arms and their eyes are glassed over.  The druggies are like zombies, not talking to each other, not contributing to society.  They are oblivious to the sober hero.

On the way to the beach trail, I peered into cars at stoplights.  Many drivers not looking at the road or stoplight, just glazed… getting a brief hit of glass.

Along the trail, people walked; many with their heads down staring at glass.  Nearly all of the trail users had headphones in crammed in their ears.

Imagine that, a stunning afternoon with an amazing low tide.  The waves rolling ashore.  The birds swooping and chirping.  Lots of other humans sucked into their glass instead of into life itself.

The bike frees me from glass,

So does playing chess with my son Shane.

As does a really great book,

Anything to get rid of that glazed look.

A HOMELESS MAN LAY STREWN ACROSS THE DIRT, the sun was beating down on him.  I pretended not to see him, and rode by on my expensive bike.

My friend stopped.

I could see him talking to the man and offering him something.  As they got smaller, I could only guess.

Soon, my friend had caught up.

He told me a story.

About a year ago, he was riding along.  Things were rough.  He was going through a difficult legal problem and it was eating at his soul.  He was so focused on all his own problems.  On a ride, he saw a homeless man and had the thought to ask his wife for her bagel and he turned his bike  around.

He said he just had to go back.

He talked to the man.  He asked if he was hungry?  Yes.  He gave him the bagel.  As he quickly ate, the two talked.  My friend asked if there as any family around.  No, they’re all gone.  What about friends?  None that could help him.  The man was touched that anybody would care enough to stop and to ask about his life.  My friend gave the man his “emergency $20”.

Instantly, this friend’s burdens seemed to melt away.

His legal problem was soon resolved and his business was back on track.

Can he prove there’s a connection between his good deed and his good fortune?

No.

But, he’s given away $1000 – $20 at a time – in the last year.

Every Saturday when he rides, he counts himself lucky to find someone in need.

I ONLY KNOW ONE WAY TO CLEAN MY BIKE, and it goes like this:

1.  Have all afternoon with nothing to do.

2.  Dial up an Essential playlist on i-Tunes.

Today I lost myself in Bob Dylan:  The rushing beat of Hurricane’s rush to judgement, the feeling of a Rolling Stone, the sweetness of Forever Young, the playful Duquesne Whistle, the story of Tangled Up In Blue…

… soulful messages for my soul…

… reminding me of my own rushes to judge, the need to love the unknown,  the dreams I have for my kids, the stories I hear and share…

I gently cleaned the grime and dirt, slowly.  Most easily wiped away.  Simple adjustments were made.

But, I found a flaw.

My bottom bracket was loose, wobbly, not good at all… something I no longer feel confident adjusting on my own.  It’s a real tweaker.  Today’s bikes are complex… which means I have to drive to the shop and be without my bike for while.

Sometimes you need an expert to fix your flaws, mostly though, time and tunes get it done.

(Me, Todd and Tod)

JACK NOSCO HAS CREATED A PHENOMENOM.  Each year, on November 3rd, 800+ bike riders take the day off from work and ride.  They ride to remember Jack’s brother, Mike, who was killed riding his bike.  They ride to raise funds to help people in the community, real people that Jack knows…

… and they ride 80 miles, climbing 9000′ …

Last year was my first NOSCO and it was terrible… my worst day on the bike of ’16.

Brutal heat.

I think it was a million degrees on the climbs.

This year was different.

I was different, too.

I just wanted to PR the climbs.  There was a 50/50 chance of that.  I’d only ridden them once.  I planned to not ride like a lunatic to the first climb, and stop at all the aid stations.

My Freddar was on high alert as we rolled out.  Warning pings were going off and sure ‘nuf a wave of riders tumble over each other.  I made sure my pals were not caught up in it, and shot ahead to get clear of the freddom… but the Freddar was pinging again soon and one guy took himself out.  This time I didn’t even look for the fellas, no need.

Now, I could put the Freddar away.

Deer Creek is a terrible climb.

It starts out awful, then gets steeper than Everest… like a 44% grade.  My new lower gearing didn’t seem to be helping at all.  All my surfing balancing skills were need to ride my pathetic pace.  Big sprinters, little climbers, guys on beach cruisers were flying by.  My wheels were like velcro.

At the top.

Watermelon, sweet watermelon.  Coke. More watermelon.

Encinal is the toboggan run to the ocean.  I went brakeless, slicing the turns, using my blubber to blow past the “climbers”.

Mullholland was soothing.

We had a nice little group.

Me, Todd Darley and Tod Turley had a Toddfest.  Chatting it up.  Matt was trying really hard drop us.  It was futile.  The ToddTodTodd TeamTimeTrial was firing… not really.  Peter rode across Matt’s 3′ gap, I was heartbroken.  Crushed.  The Tod(d)s cheered me up.

At the top.

Watermelon, coke, watermelon.

Latigo, the last climb.  Latigo means whip in espanish.  It’s the longest climb on NOSCO.  9 miles, 2000’.  Last year it whipped my @$$.  Total punishment.  It took me 66 minutes.  66 minutes of hell.  Phil did it in 31 minutes.

We hit the bottom together.  Latigo punched back.  I ducked, kicked it hard.  I bit, I scratched. I screamed.  Matt n Pete gapped me off.  I was on my own.  Me and Latigo. Pedal a pedal.

Once you clear Latigo, it’s all “downhill”.

Except where it’s not.

It’s pretty easy to see why the ride is bigger every year.

But it’s still not as big as Jack’s heart.

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172

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the truck smells like 3 Guys Chamois set up shop  it’s ripe

WITH ALL THE BUZZ ABOUT PURSUING YOUR PASSION, it’s surprising how few actually do it.  I think it’s because the people who write the books are writers, and the people pursing their passion aren’t writing about it.  They are too busy doing it.

So how does a 9 year old kid pursue his passion and change lives in the process?

Start with a passion.

Keep getting better.

Expertise is soon garnered.

Improvement follows.

It’s a virtuous circle of escalating mo’betterment.

The 9 year old ages and reaches the highest levels of accomplishment.

At some point, this pursuer of passion starts creating.

Others join the movement created and are soon adding their own improvements.

Nothing is ever finished.

Everything gets better.

At 9, Chris Carmichael started racing bicycles.  He raced right up to the highest levels of the sport.  A broken leg derailed the racing career, but the passion still burned.  So he shared what he’d learned with other racers at USA Cycling.  It was his dad who suggested he keep pursuing his passion and thus was born Carmichael Training Systems (CTS).  CTS legitimized cycling coaching.  Thousands of individuals changed their sporting lives through CTS coaches and other coaches who leveraged the pioneering efforts of CTS.

I have personally been touched by so many people pursuing their passions:

Hobie Alter’s passion for  beach life gave me the skateboards I rode and the sailboats we sailed.

Terry Laughlin’s passion for changing the way swimming is taught and practiced via his company Total Immersion Swimming changed the way I swim, increasing my skills and speed.

Steve Jobs’ passion for technology and simplicity got me in the desktop publishing business.

Gary Fisher’s passion for riding bikes in the dirt gives me hours of pleasure on the mountain bike.

The examples of people pursuing their passion are all around us.

Pursue your passion.

Get good at it.

Make improvements.

Nothing is ever perfected.

There is always a better way.

What is yours?

IT STARTED WITH A TEXT FROM MY FRIEND PAUL:

Chris is going to be in town, wanna do something?

Yes, let me call Brian… we’ll have some fun.

Paul works as a cycling coach for Chris Carmichael’s company CTS, and Brian runs The SoCal Cycling Podcast.  Me, I’m just a guy.

We started the night with savory dishes from Guicho’s and sharing bike racing stories.

Ours were amateur, and Chris’s were pro.

Ours were current and small, his were old and epic.

They were the kind of stories only someone who had been there could tell.  Captivating.  About always being hungry to be skinny, about travel, about nobody talking to the new kids… the Americans.

But, the most interesting part was talking about what it takes to be a champion.  That champions are all about themselves.  Their whole lives revolve around them, and are set up to server their single purpose.  To win.

After dinner, we moved downstairs for the podcast.  More friends joined us for this portion.

Brian busted out his fancy equipment and started with a this:

What makes your coaching company different from all the others?

What followed was nugget upon nugget of Chris’s philosophy.  In order, to the best of my recollection:

A coach can inspire an athlete as well as be inspired by an athlete. 

A monkey can interpret the data, a coach coaches.

Where there’s a wheel there’s a way.

A great coach can make something complex simple, understandable.

Winners are calm when they are in the lead, losers are nervous.

A lot of the science we developed for Project ’96 (Olympic games) is still used by USA Cycling… like train low, rest high.  We had a chamber where we have the athletes do intervals in an super-oxygen environment at -300 sea level where they could produce much more power than sea level.  They they’d rest in a simulated altitude of 10,000′.

You’re not a coach if you don’t coach.  Our coaches are all coaching 20-30 athletes, and we are all learning from that all the time.

When you have good legs, you have a good head.  When you have a good head, you have good legs.

The data doesn’t matter on race day.  On race day it’s about racing… what are you going to do?  Quit or win?  Winners, win.

The best athletes are killers, it doesn’t matter how they feel, what the local food is like, how they slept. They are there to win on that day.

On race day, never think I’ll be back or I’m just here to learn.  You don’t know if you’ll be back.  Make it happen today.  You’ll learn more by putting it all on the line.  There is no tomorrow, there is no other race… only this one.

Brian then turned the mic to the audience and Chris fielded a variety of questions… fun for everyone.

MY SON SHANE DRESSES UP FOR HALLOWEEN AS A “BIKER” EVERY YEAR.  What could be funniererer than dressing up in dad’s biking clothes and partying up the night?

There’s no respect, which I’m used to.

There’s no effort to say cyclist or cycling kit or bibs or jersey..  If he knew they were called bibs, there would be even more mockery.

Then there’s these two characters on TMWC this morning going full gas the entire ride:  Brett in his wife’s leotard and Mike with a Ramses mask.  I see a new tradition of mockery has started and no doubt will be full blown next year.

ONE MAN’S DRESS UP, is another man’s party suit.

173.6

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Our next event – >  LIVE PODCAST WITH CHRIS CARMICHAEL AND BRIAN CO

YOUR VOTE DOESN’T COUNT, and that’s great!  Can you imagine if a big bike race… like The Tour or Paris Roubaix… came down to a beauty contest and “experts” decided which two teams would contest the final sprint as well as how the rest of the teams would finish?

Ludicrous, right?!

What if the UCI pulled in billions of dollars and the racers made zero?

Impossible?!

That’s how it works at the highest levels of American College Football, which is “amateur”.  The teams generate billions of dollars and the players make ZERO.

And, AND!, at the end of the college football season some “smarterthanme people” get in a room and decide who the best teams are and their final rankings, except for the top 4 voted-best teams who get to play each other.

They say it’s tradition, and best for the kids.

I say, BS.

So, as I watch my struggling Trojans bounce around the bottom 20 in the beauty contest and eat pizza and yell at the TV screen when the refs blow it I can only say thank you to the UCI and ASO, andUSA Cycling.  Because even though you make a mockery of what your customers and fans want and vote for…

… at least your vote doesn’t count, when it really counts!

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172.6

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Our next event – >  LIVE PODCAST WITH CHRIS CARMICHAEL AND BRIAN CO

THERE ARE A MILLION REASONS WHY I CAN BE FASTER, and just as many why I can be slower.

I started listing the reasons, and my pen ran dry.

I got a new pen, and soon ran out of paper.

I got more paper.  My hand cramped.

Maybe it’s impossible?…

… unless I want to.

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173 yikes!

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LIVE PODCAST WITH CHRIS CARMICAEL AND BRIAN CO

Join us for a fun, and informative evening.  Brian is a great interviewer, and Chris Carmichael is America’s coach of coaches.

Bring your questions.

I USED TO GET UP EARLY ON SATURDAYS AND RIDE MY BIKE so I could get home early to play with my little kids.

Today I got up early and rode my bike so I could get out to Palm Springs for my aunt’s memorial service.  All week I was looking forward to seeing my cousins and celebrating the life of very special lady.

She had earned many accolades and distinctions throughout her life, like California Young Mother of The Year.  But, for me, it was the way she treated everybody.  When Nora looked at you, when she said your name, you knew… she loved you, and you knew she could see all the potential in you.

This seeing the potential in people lead to a remarkable event she put on every Spring.

Starting in 1980, she and my uncle invited all the cousins in high school to their home.  There were first-cousins and second-cousins and friends of cousins.  Some years over 50 kids would descend upon Palm Springs, from all over the country.  They camped in the back yard, sleeping bags all over the place.

She called it Cousins Conference.

She wanted the next generation to enjoy the bonds of family by getting to know their cousins.  Plus, it was important to her to help the kids understand their divine potential.  Mixed in with pool time and hikes were special workshops and speakers delivering uplifting messages.

That was my aunt, always seeing the best in others…

… and that’s what I’ll always remember.

I DO LIVE TO RIDE, to get that feeling and rush of air.  Sometimes, when I’m really grinding at work the only thing keeping me sane is knowing another day means another ride.

And that ride will refresh me.  Rejuvenate me.  Clear my mind and keep my body healthy to do more great work.

And that work engages my mind.  Pulls out the best of my creativity, demands the most of my capacity, and hopefully produces the funds needed to make the life I want possible.

Taking out the riding leads to less productive work.  Less productive work, leads to less time to live.  Less living and before long… you’re dead.

Happy Friday Y’all… get out and ride this weekend.

PS… get 25% off the t-shirt if you order before 11/1/17, use promo code PEDAL.

WHEN TOM CHIRPED MY NEW, FANCY OAKLEYS LOOK FAST, I could only blurt back… I don’t know if they are, but I hope they intimidate you into riding slow.

Typical ride banter.

Guys propping each other up, just before delivering a wicked attack.

Here’s what little I know about glasses:

Make sure they fit your head. They don’t get caught up in your helmet’s padding and let buckets of sweat stream down your lens.  This usually happens if the glasses are too big for your head.

The right frames will fit nicely into your helmet when you don’t want to wear them.  This is better than fumbling with them in your pockets because it’s faster and will keep the lens cleaner and dryer.

Get the right lens tint for the riding you’re doing.  The new “polaroid” technologies are amazing for dawn and dusk light.  Oakley has lens for specific terrain, road vs mtb.  A clear lens is great for night in the dark – which I’ll be doing a lot more of this time of year.

I like a tall enough lens to keep the wind out when I’m bombing a hill at high speed.

Brands?  Well, I like Oakley because of the quality and because their roots are OC all the way.  There are lots of options to consider.

Whatever you choose, be sure they make  you look fast… sometimes looking good is all you’ve got.

THE NEW SCALE IS DIGITAL, as was it’s predecessor.

Each morning I stumble over, strip, and step aboard… just like I did with the old scale.  The naked, first light check-in is the only way I know to keep my weight  checked.

If the number is under 170 Toddybehappy, over and Toddybelesshappy… same feelings as with the old scale.

Wait, that’s not really true.  This new scale is meaner.

The old scale was heavy, make of glass.  It’s heft gave a sense of sureness and accuracy.  The readout produced dark gray numbers that seemed to float in the air… kind of a whisper for the eyes to interpret.

The new scale is lite, and made of plastic.  It seems shallow, and quick to judge.  The numbers it generates are a heartless-red, suspended in black… burning the truth, leaving nothing to doubt.

Days like today weigh a lot more than they used to.

AS THE KING OF ABSOLUTELY NOTHING,  I hereby proclaim all KOM’s set today, the 24th day of October 2017, in SoCal to be null and void.  Whatever little KOM you think you scored this day of powerful Santa Ana winds is worthless.

The Strava overlords are in complete agreement.

So congratulations.

You got nothing.

No KOM/QOM.

No kudos.

All comments on your rides, praising your amazing talent, will be erased.

Why?

Because I’m a mean, bitter, turd of a king.  When I see my times shattered… times I poured all my blood (all of it!), sweat (gallons of it!) and tears (tattoos on my soul)… shattered by “athletes” who simply surfed the wind to their coronation, it makes me see red.

And, when I see red… Strava sees red.

And, when Strava sees red… they erase your false claims to your puffed up crowns.

It’s NOT that I’m just pissy because we failed to score one for Gould.

XOXOXO

SOME DAYS YA JUST GOTTA BUY SOMETHING NEW.  For bike riders, one of the best joys/dollar is new water bottles.

No scuffs.  No dents.  No leaks. No fumunda.

They feel healthier… shoot, they probably are.

Some cats will go years and years with the same bottles.  They are so wretched I wouldn’t let my dog drink from them.  It makes no sense.  None.

The one thing you want to keep in tip top shape, before anything is your engine (i.e. your body).  So drink as pure as you can.

Next, is your drive train.  I’ve unknowingly grabbed a leaky, filled with my magic flavor of the day only to have it leak all over my bottom bracket.  Sugar turns to mud, turns to muck, turns to s.l.o.w.

It’s new bottles day.

YOU’LL NEVER KNOW IF YOU CAN RIDE YOUR BIKE TO SAN DIEGO, until you do it.

Then,

You’ll see the sun rise through mountain shadows and set in ocean blue.

You’ll feel the gentle push of coastal breeze at your back.

You’ll pass through beach towns and beach goers.

You’ll meet kindred riders headed your way.

You’ll know why you rode to San Diego.

Or Portland

Or Santa Fe

Or Austin

Or _____?

IT’S ALL ABOUT LOVE, THAT’S WHAT IT TAKES TO BE A GREAT AMBASSADOR.  At PEDALindustries and DHDwear, our best ambassadors showed us love first.  We reciprocated.  They loved us more.  We loved them more… love, love, love.

What a lovely cycle!

No contracts.

No asking.

Just love.

What kind of love?  Social media posts.  Group emails.  Ride introductions -> referrals.

What kind of reciprocation?  Special access, secret pricing, free products -> more to love.

May the loyalty and love ever deepen.

Keep It Super Simple

_____

170.8

MY BUDDY BART QUIT RIDING SO HE COULD COMPETE IN BODYBUILDING, and it got me thinking… how much does food affect performance?  Because…

… he’s lost 6 lbs from his cycling fighting weight

put on a ton of muscle

works out less than an hour a day

and completely transformed his body…

He was already a lean and disciplined athlete and fast as hell on a bike, so how the heck did he gain muscle and drop weight?

In his words, the diet is the secret… that’s how you build your body.

He’s shared the food regimen with me over the past year.  It’s very bland, and very complex in ways I hadn’t considered.  Basically, it’s boiled chicken and rice.  Every meal.  Butt (yes, it’s a big but), some days are all chicken, some days mostly rice, and some days are a mix.

I’m simplifying a bit, but the point is what you eat and when you eat and the ratios of protein and carbs matters a lot.

The specific training is important, but the food makes the difference between a girlyman and a beefcake.

And that’s what I’m wondering about today…

What’s the optimal diet for a cyclist who wants to be FASTer?

I can’t wait to sit down with Chris Carmichael and learn.

Are you registered? http://pedalindustries.com/store/TRAIN-RIGHT

LATE LAST NIGHT AN INQUISITIVE EMAIL FROM DAVE CAME IN.  I’ve seen a lot of discussion on this topic and my response is always the same.

EMAIL SUBJECT LINE: EXCESSIVE EXERCISE MAY HARM THE HEART, STUDY SAYS.

EMAIL MESSAGE:

Interesting article but seemingly non-conclusive. Your thoughts?

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.forbes.com/sites/alicegwalton/2017/10/18/excessive-exercise-may-harm-the-heart-study-suggests/amp/

MY RESPONSE:

Nobody gets outta here alive.

I was in high school the first time I heard that phrase… and didn’t understand it.  Jim Morrison yells it at the crowd during a concert, The Doors: Live At The Hollywood Bowl.

Eventually I grasped it.

Once you realize nobody is getting off Earth alive, living well becomes much more important than living long.  There is no living long, life is short… there is only living well.

Part of living well, for me, is the joy I feel on my bike, with the wind on my face, with my friends riding along with me.

Friendship is living well.

Bike friendship is a curious thing.

For instance, one of my college roommates, Bob, dropped by the office today.  We hadn’t gotten together or spoken for years.  He lives in Seattle, where he rides his bike.  He was in town on business.  We’re chatting, and Jeff calls… he’s in town from Park City and is riding his bike to my office.  The three of us were in a college fraternity together.

And there we were, on a beautiful Thursday morning, catching up on our fast moving lives, for the simple reason all 3 of us independently fell in love with bike riding…

… I’m pretty sure, bike riding is good for my heart …

ONCE UPON A TIME MY  ROOMMATE TALLEY GOT THE BRIGHT IDEA TO HEAD OVER TO THE AMERICAN UNIVERSITY,  which was really a school full of kids from everywhere but the US.  The thinking was the foreign ladies would be eager some some actual American boys. Talley was also the roommate who came home with a road bike, and we know where that lead… so why not give it a try?  Plus, he’d worked out a can’t fail pickup line…

Habla-vous the Deutch?!

Dude, it’s Spanish, Habla (to speak); French, vous (you); English, the; and German, Deutch (German language).  You know the ladies will be all over us showing our multi-lingualness.

I cracked up.  It was so dumb, but he was repeating it with such confidence I had to join in. 

Habla-vous the Deutch?

Habla-VOUS the Deutch?

Habla-vous THEEE Deutch?

Our accents were terrible, but our confidence was building… and off we went.  Ah, fools rush in… which brings me to next year’s Tour de France course.

The course is just kooky.

It’s starts a week late because of the World Cup.

It has a super short team time trial.

An early mountain stage could see all the sprinters miss the time cut in the first week.

Lots of lumpy and windy sections.

There’s a monstrous day on the cobble stones of Roubaix.

There’s a Vuelta-like stage the is only 65k, 40 miles… really?  Is it a 50+ amateur road race?

In a nutshell, it’s a makesureChrisFroomedoesn’twin again course.

So who will win?

Peter Sagan, duh.

He’s 27, the prime age for winning stage races.  He looked pretty skinny at the World Championships.  He’s already said he wants to win the Green Jersey, just to throw the dogs off his scent.  He’s won stage races before.  Nobody will be expecting him to go out early on the cobbles and windy and lumpy stages and ambush all the twiggy prima donna climbers… building up a huge lead and clinging onto to it all the way to Paris.

No way you say?

Well, habla-vous the Deutch?

WE’RE ON A QUEST AT THE OFFICE:  start early, finish early.  Jamming all we can into 5 hours of crazy productivity.  The idea came from a video on YouTube about a paddle board company. It sounds ridiculous, but we’re going to give a 3 month trial.

I can confirm, 1 week in, it’s different.  It’s a completely different effort when you know you are limited on time… like that last day at work before going on vacation, it’s a whirlwind of productivity.

… more on this to follow …

TREVOR, OUR OLDEST, LOADED UP HIS BIKE AND BOARDS and moved to Huntington Beach.  Of course, he was on his own in college for many years.  But, this move is different.

It’s not even far away, yet it’s a bigger move.

There’s a sense of permanence.

Because, he’s ready and able.

Like when the training wheels came off on the old cul de saq, he won’t be looking back.

He’ll be smiling.

And so will I.

THE LONGER A GROUP RIDE EXISTS, the more it iterates.

It starts with a few characters getting together at the corner.

At the same time, each week.

Then it gets a name: Como Street, Coffee Crew, TMWC, Food Park, Canyon Velo, Swami’s, Donut Ride, Simi, etc.

A mother hen inserts herself, keeping everybody in line.

The original Coffee Crew was a Saturday ride.  7am start in Corona del Mar, finishing up at C’est Si Bon bakery for doughy delights and… coffee.  Stricky as there, Ed Kurzinski, Kirk Cross, Mike Martin, Paul Miller, Doug Evertz, Jeff Newman, Eric Salzman, a few others and Todd Schooler.

Schooler was our mother hen.  He decided we needed a Tuesday/Thursday work out.  So we did the same course as Saturday on Tuesday and rode hills on Thursday.

Food Park had an 830am start at the food park where Main and MacArthur intersect.  As Saturday Coffee Crew faded out, a few of us would anxiously wait at The Coffee Bean.  Some of the Canyon Velo guys would peel off and join us to wait for Food Park.  About 838, we’d see 70-100 riders roaring and ready to rip through sleepy Irvine.

Now, The Coffee Bean is the start of Food Park… and few know why it starts  when and where it does.

Most of these group rides develop Long and Short options.

Como Long was the premier group ride in SoCal for many years.  100-200 of the best and fastest riders in outrageous colors made the ride look like TdF.  The choice to long or short was made early in the ride and said a lot about your talent and ambition.  Now, not so much.

Yesterday on the Donut Ride, the Long option seemed more a matter of attrition than course selection.

Swami’s Long and Simi Long are seasonal.  “The Pros” drift in for winter miles – real pros you see on TV – and spice up these rides, making them even more popular.

The courses change over time.  There isn’t even a Como Street street anymore – but there was.  That ride would tear through the orange groves of Irvine – gone – around the 2-lane civilian perimeter of El Toro Marine base – gone – shell riders up to the fields of RSM – gone – and into what remains OC’s only country roads.

The groups grow and dwindle, largely based on the mother hen.  The mother hen barks at crappy riding, red light running… and changes the course when it makes sense to do so.  If nobody steps up when the mother hen moves on, the ride will slowly die out.

We’ve started our own long Food Park.  We leave Doheny about 7, ride up the coast and up Newport Coast around Back Bay to The Coffee Bean start and ride with the gang through Irvine and then back to San Clemente.

We’re nearly weekly on this now, and I predict it will be Food Park South in the next year or so.

Cock-A-Doodle-Doo

TODAY STARTED EARLY, and ended late.  First, I broke out of San Clemente at 6:25am to get to Redondo Beach and battle the Donut Ride.  Last, I slipped into the South Bay Cycling Awards for tacos and culture.  In between, was unplanned and awesome.

Ah, the Donut Ride… a nice social jaunt through and around the tranquil Palos Verdes hills.  The temperature is always perfect, and the views stunning.  Seth was there early, greeting the fresh faces and handing out stickers honoring Steve Tilford.  Very cool.

In fact, lots of people showed up for the ride…

… it’s definitely not a race… but I think $600 in primes were handed out tonight…

… so many riders were there, not racing,

the group leaked all over the road …

I guess it was fast… but it’s hard to say, I’ve only done it 3 times.  Still, 94 Strava cups is somethin’.

Feeling great after the “ride”, I rode back up Del Monte to Hawthorne.

Feeling hungry, Chipotle was my next stop.

Feeling tired, I crashed on the sand ’till Dan called.

I’m shaping a board.

Cool, I’ll come over.

Dan’s shop is like being inside a beehive.  All these little shaping rooms, belonging to famous surfboard shapers, interconnect with each other and the fin insertion department and the glassing room.  It’s amazing.

After hosing off the ride and beach, I watched Dan work.

Right before my eyes, he released a magical board from it’s foam prison.  No template, no maniacal measuring, just an artist working with his hands and the tools of his trade.  It was truly beautiful.

I love the board Dan made for me, and already want another.  It’s so great to talk to the shaper and describe the waves I like and the way I surf and him make me something that is awesome.

It got me thinking about how awesome a custom bike frame could be.

The day was ending, the night was begging to join the living.

Seth Davidson’s creation, the awards ceremony was just cool.  Cool because it honored and made fun off the South Bay cycling community.  Cool because it was free.  Cool because everybody was there, and everybody knew each other.

The night was dedicated to the life Steve Tilford lead.  His wife and family and friends flew out for the event.  Steve’s blog taught me a ton about racing, and life and blogging.  I read it nearly every day.  I miss Steve’s sense of living life intentionally.

Awards for great riding and great clubs and great recoveries and great ambassadors and great leaders and great promoters and great advocates and great up and coming talent were handed out by Seth and his co-MC Rashaan Bahati.  The sense of love and appreciation for each person in attendance was real and inspiring.

What a great way to bring the local cycling community together… Seth deserves an award!

MY HAIR IS GROWING OUT, on my legs and on my head.

The legs, to remind me it’s off-season.

The hair, to keep me warm as the days shorten and cool.

None of that will matter tomorrow on the famed Donut Ride.  I’ll be new, hairy-legged guy… and hairy legs are the signal to all the world: I’m new and have no clue.

No one will talk to me.

No one will give me space up front.

No one will want to be within 10′ of me.

And that’s okay, but for a true cycling noob it’s terrible treatment… and the noob will have no idea why it goes down that way.  She just rides home and says screw that crew… wait, what girl has hairy legs in CA?  … he just rides home …

I’m sticking around till nighttime to go to the other world-famous cycling event, The South Bay Cycling Awards.  My nature will be to go wallflower, wonder why I’m there at all, hang around the fringe and shyly sip the essence of Seth’s scene.

Can’t blame the hairy legs on that… but, these guys are pretty scary.

THERE ARE SO MANY WAYS TO RACE YOUR BIKE, some come naturally and some require great effort to master.

But, what’s more fun?

Sticking with the racing that suits your natural talent, might lead to greater success.

But, pursuing a discipline that requires you to dramatically improve or change your body or riding style will probably lead to greater growth…

… and even great success when you return to your natural talent…

Mix it up, often.

I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST READ, one of our most inspiring regulars is wimping out because…

it’s

tooooo

cold?!

First off, you are a seriously accomplished badass on the bike.  You race in all kinds of conditions.  Doesn’t it make sense to subject your flesh to a little harshness as part of the prep?

Second, it wasn’t even cold today.  I think you just rolled out with Indian Summer on your mind and forgot to check the Weather Channel app for Trabuco Canyon – the coldest part of our ride.  Isn’t it fun to bust out the warmers and vests and jackets we so rarely wear?

Third, we are rising with the sun this time of year – with the eastern horizon brightening and lightening our day.  Isn’t it the best?

Fourth, in a couple of weeks the time changes and we get an hour of sun back to warm us on the start.

Fifth, don’t the few cold days make the warm days so much better?

Sixth, the change in whether is how we now we’re alive at all.  Isn’t it great to come in chilled and jump in a hot shower?

Seventh, we’re all going to be there all through the winter encouraging each other – so many others will back down the miles, drop the intensity and wonder if their scale is lying to them come Spring.  Don’t you need us to stay super-motivated?

Eight, if it’s the cold this week, what’s next?  Too hot?  Too steep?  Too, too, too?

Ninth, what about the legions that follow you on social media who you inspire daily… what will they think? do?

Tenth, you know we’re gonna heckle you… right?

I’VE HAD A NAGGING COUGH FOR ABOUT A MONTH, Mike confided.

Oh wow!  I didn’t even know.

Yeah, I always feel better on the ride.

Everything always feels better on the ride.

IT’S TRUE, RIDE WITH SOMEONE OFTEN ENOUGH AND YOU’LL END UP LIKING THEM A WHOLE LOT… makes me wonder:

How many of the world’s problems could be solved…

How many misunderstandings would be avoided…

How many more friendships would be forged…

How many riders would still be riding…

How many social walls dissolved…

… if we all simply rode together.

(this T is going to press Friday, order before and save 25% with promo code DHD25 click to order now)

I RAN INTO MY BUDDY CHUCK TODAY, we shared a big hug.  It’s been too long.

I’m just luke warm these days.

I don’t care, come up here with me.

Nah, I’m more comfortable in the back.

He drifted rearward, alone.

After, we chatted more, got caught up on family and life.

I pondered spending more time in the back with my struggling pal(s) vs going all out and hold the bar high.

What kind of bridge do I want to be, should I be?

HOW I HOPE MY DAY UNFOLDS… surf sesh and breakfast my justouttacollege friends, nice climbing day on the MTB, some good reading of S Jobs biography, clean the bikes, wash the car, zip thru emails…

I hear it’s best to start with the big tasks, and work down to the small stuff.

Here we go

MY SHADOW BOUNCES ACROSS THE MUSTARD WEED… gotta shoot that, I spin around and one-hand the phone, and… Arlo Guthrie joins the ride.

Good morning America, how are ya?!

It IS a good morning, it’s early, it’s just me and Arlo.  ‘Haven’t heard that song since forever

An iTunes search later educates me the true name of the song: The City of New Orleans… I get a little misty thinking of my baby who’s living in that very city.

Shelby Ray, how are ya?

THINK DIFFERENT IS ONE OF MANY GREAT MAXIMS revealed in Steve Jobs’ biography – my current read.  It started as a challenge to the Mac team, and wound up as an invitation and a promise to the world.

Do different is the challenge of the off-season.

Add.

Delete.

Increase.

Reduce.

With the hope of different results next season, I’m…

Adding weight-lifting.

Deleting bread.

Increasing surfing and paddle-boarding.

Reducing time on the bike.

Get stronger.  Get relaxed.

SUPER DAVE KOESEL HAS LANDED ON TOP OF 3T NORTH AMERICA, and allowed me to check out the view with the company’s latest award-winning creation: The Strada.

Check it out, he said.

Dave is very precise, all about the math and science and research.

I go on feel, intuition and my gut.

the Strada looks really cool, and fast

Every single unnecessary part has been deleted from the bike, like a front chain ring and derailleur.  Everything else has been trimmed and slimmed and hidden from the wind.

the disc brakes are fantastic

I’ve ridden disc brakes off-road for over a decade.  Why aren’t all road bikes equipped with discs by now?  It’s night and day, the difference in braking quality.

the 1X drivetrain is simple

Simply shifting the chain across the cassette with no front chain ring options to consider is very nice.  The set up on the tester was a mid-level mechanical SRAM model, I can only imagine how awesome it would be with an electronic derailleur and the shifting duties split between left and right hands.

big tires, big comfort

Dave loves his numbers, and he pulled out all the data showing the superiority of large tires… specifically which large tires give the greatest speed advantage.  With that added speed, comes added comfort.  Go big.

it’s stiff

The Strada has thru axels, front and rear.  These axels are supposed to greatly increase stiffness while accelerating.  All I can confirm is that the bike climbed much, much better than I anticipated.  I’m an outta the saddle climber, and I love the way this bike feels under massive (well, all I’ve got) torque.

The future is simple, aero and fast.

__________

172.2

We have about 15 spots left, I hope YOU can make it.

I SEE THIS A LOT:  RIDER HEARS ABOUT TMWC, SHOWS UP, GETS SHELLED, and keeps coming back for more.  Some get hit with the TMWC sledgehammer, never to return.  But, most of us keep coming back, week after week.

There are two reasons:

Progression – One stop light at a time, they get a little stronger and hang on a little longer.

Friendship – Either they have a friend that invited them, or they quickly make a friend.

You can do anything with a goal, and a friend.

THE HARDEST WORKING PART OF MY BIKE, is also the hardest to spell.  We say it all the time.  But, can you spell it?  I can’t.  Not with confidence.  Spellchecking is always required on this one, for me.

Being a fairly new component, newer than the wheel or the handlebar or the saddle, it’s name hasn’t morphed into a million different languages.

It has to do with getting a train off it’s tracks.

The inventor was French, which might ‘splain a ting er two – an author, no less.

D-E-R-A-I-L-L-E-U-R

I’m going to cut n paste the main wiki details.  Perhaps a little additional education will help me/you? spell it with confidence.

Etymology

Derailleur is a French word, spelled dérailleur in French,^[1] derived from the derailment of a train from its tracks.^[3] Its first recorded use was 1930.^[1][4] At least one notable bicycle industry author has attempted to promote the anglicized spelling of derailer.^[3][5] As of 2013, however, neither Merriam-Webster^[4] nor the Oxford English Dictionary^[1] has an entry for derailer.

History

Various derailleur systems were designed and built in the late 19th century. One example is the Protean two-speed derailleur available on the Whippet safety bicycle.^[6] The French bicycle tourist, writer and cycling promoter Paul de Vivie (1853–1930), who wrote under the name Vélocio, invented a two speed rear derailleur in 1905 which he used on forays into the Alps.^[7] Some early designs used rods to move the chain onto various gears. 1928 saw the introduction of the “Super Champion Gear” (or “Osgear”)^[8] from the company founded by champion cyclist Oscar Egg, as well as the Vittoria Margherita; both employed chainstay mounted ‘paddles’ and single lever chain tensioners mounted near or on the downtube. However, these systems, along with the rod-operated Campagnolo Cambio Corsa^[9] were eventually superseded by parallelogram derailleurs.

In 1937, the derailleur system was introduced to the Tour de France, allowing riders to change gears without having to remove wheels. Previously, riders would have to dismount in order to change their wheel from downhill to uphill mode.^[10] Derailleurs did not become common road racing equipment until 1938 when Simplex introduced a cable-shifted derailleur.

In 1949 Campagnolo introduced the Gran Sport, a more refined version of the then already existing, yet less commercially successful, cable-operated parallelogram rear derailleurs.^[11]

In 1964, Suntour invented the slant-parallelogram rear derailleur, which let the jockey pulley maintain a more constant distance from the different sized sprockets, resulting in easier shifting. Once the patents expired, other manufacturers adopted this design, at least for their better models,^[12] and the “slant parallelogram” remains the current rear derailleur pattern.

Before the 1990s many manufacturers made derailleurs, including Simplex, Huret, Galli, Mavic, Gipiemme, Zeus, Suntour, and Shimano. However, the successful introduction and promotion of indexed shifting by Shimano in 1985 required a compatible system of shift levers, derailleur, sprockets, chainrings, chain, shift cable, and shift housing.^[13]

Today Campagnolo, Shimano, and SRAM are the three main manufacturers of derailleurs, with Italian manufacturer Campagnolo only making road cycling derailleurs and Shimano making both road and offroad. American manufacturer SRAM has been an important third, specializing in derailleurs for mountain bikes, and in 2006 they introduced a drivetrain system for road bicycles.

Modern derailleur types

The major innovations since then have been the switch from friction to indexed shifting and the gradual increase in the number of gears. With friction shifting, the rider first moves the lever enough for the chain to jump to the next sprocket, and then adjusts the lever a slight amount to center the chain on that sprocket. An indexed shifter has a detent or ratchet mechanism which stops the gear lever, and hence the cable and the derailleur, after moving a specific distances with each press or pull. Indexed shifters require re-calibration when cables stretch and parts get damaged or swapped. On racing bicycles, 10-gear rear cassettes appeared in 2000, and 11-gear cassettes appeared in 2009. Most current mountain bicycles have either two or three front chainrings with single ring front setups becoming increasingly popular. Most road bicycles have two chainrings, and touring bicycles commonly have three.

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AT 630AM YESTERDAY, I CASUALLY RODE MY BIKE 70 MILES IN 4 HOURS.  At 5pm, I walked 100 feet in 12 minutes.  Clutching my dad’s bony arms, my son Shane and I purposefully plodded into church.

There was no place I’d rather be.

We sat, and listened.

My mind wandered to a time when my dad was strong enough to grab the dining room chair at the end of one leg and hold it straight out.  (Try it some time.)  He used to vault the 6′ back wall and run on the high school track behind our house.  “One lap to think about each kid”. (8 laps).

I’m taller than him now, but he’ll always be a giant to me.

FOR HUMANITY AND SCIENTIFIC ADVANCEMENT, the Tour de Donut sought to answer the question:  Will donuts make you fat or fatletic?

At 6:30am, we began with a weigh-in.  Dozens of data points would be collected and crunched along the way to reach a rich and gooey conclusion.

5 donut shops had been selected as the most worthy.

70ish miles were covered.

100+ donuts consumed.

Twilight found us at Surfin’ Donuts.  I opted for the apple fritter, since the next stop was 25 miles up the coast.  It was on the thin side, crunchy with delicious apples and cinnamon generously applied.

We passed Ole Hanson Beach Park just as the Mach 5 boys were rolling out.   They were not interested in the betterment of humanity and peeled off at Laguna Canyon.

Mike and Steve caught up at Rose Bakery and Cafe.  A light and fluffy sugar-covered twist lit my senses.  A few of our test subjects skipped this spot.  Not the TBD Racing crew, who also joined us at this point, they sugared right up.  We’ll have to trust their weigh in data, hard to do knowing they are lawyers and marketers.

20ish strong we rolled into Sidecar, the most famous of shops.  A huge serpentine line congoed forward.  Like Disneyland, we marked our progress towards true donut creativity.  Here I lost my virginity to the Bacon Donut.  It smelled amazing, and tasted better.  Everybody ate.

I was a little loopy, sugar-loaded I guess.

The bike trail to Donut Star was eventful… but that’s another thing.

At Donut Star, a pink cherry cruller gave me a come hither look.  Soft and delicate, this beauty melted in my mouth – my favorite of the day.  Some of our volunteers strayed to bagels and croissants… no research grant money for them… others, like Chris, doubled up.

Here, I noticed a repeating theme… at each stop patrons inquired how far did we ride and is this the reward?  All applauded our quest, though few grasped the significance.

Most of the TBD’s pulled off here, the rest bidding us farewell in Lake Forest.

5 of us battled on to Royal Hamburgers and Donuts.  My final selection, a chocolate cake donut covered in chocolate.  A solid choice, and very tasty.

On the way back to San Clemente, my energy was actually quite good.

What we learned:

All lost weight.

All drank less water than normal.

Everybody was happy, and cheerful.

Nobody cramped.

Nobody was gassy.

Nobody bonked. 

Nobody flatted.

All the kits fit as fine before as after.

All of the craniums functioned correctly.

In conclusion, donuts are tasty, easy to locate in all towns, with a wide ranging variety to keep you satisfied.

Touring by donut is highly recommended… especially if bacon is involved.

strict scientific measures were taken

yes, Vegans eat donuts… there’s hope

so apropos

Matt had a nice little chat with the kid in the Escalade who yelled “butt dart”

Sidecar’s selection is amazing

45 miles in, and loving it

Cheers!

________________________

Join us on October 11th for dinner and dessert with Chris Carmichael, author of The Time Crunched Cyclist, and Brian Co of the SoCal Cyclist podcast

I HAVE ONE BAD KNEE, and one good knee.  In fact, the same knee is just above my one bad foot.  The knee is bad, from running… more later.  The foot is bad from kicking black lava.  When all is right in my world there is no pain.  Today there is pain.

Dianna thought it would be fun to run home from Drew’s on a hot summer night back in 80something.  I quickly calculated that 7 miles was 6 miles more than I’d run ever then added in bonus miles based on her cuteness and multiplied it by 1000 because it was her idea.

Great let’s do it.

I felt amazing, for obvious reasons.

About 3 miles in I felt a twinge in my left knee, that was left unsaid.

5 miles in it really hurt, and I cheerfully ran on… for obvious reasons.

Over the years, I’ve picked up and put down running… each time leading to a twinge and a memory of that summer night.

A little trail running, around Whiting Ranch and up on Saddleback.

A few triathlons.

One of the first of Scott Tinley’s Dirty Adventures, I finished the swim last and finished the bike first and proceeded to run so slow volunteers were putting me back on the course instead of allowing me to finish… they wanted me to do another loop, figuring there’s no way that guy is done at that pace with that form… oh, I was done.  I wound up 2nd in my age group, but that was my last “long run”.

The left foot is bad thanks to immovable lava at Waimea Bay.  On my way up to dive, I clipped a rock.  It instantly hurt like hell.  Looking down, my baby toe was at a 90 degree angle.  I taped it up, kept diving.  Two years have passed and it’s just worse, flopping around like a mini rag doll and rolling over so the nail is on the ground.  I’ve started to tape it into place again… it kinda helps.

So there’s the background to why the knee and foot are tender today.

They both hurt because I’ve been lifting weights and pedaling a monstrous gear on my MTB – stressing the joints and muscles and tendons…

… It’s the off-season, and I want to be superstong next year like all the cool kids…

… I’m just not as cool as that one hot summer night…